Chapter 20 #2
Al drove straight for his office. He knew what he had to do.
He knew who to call. Unfortunately, Brian Dennis had his hands full of problems at the moment.
Well, this was going to have to be one more for him.
Roxanne’s bail was just as important as Lindy’s surgery.
At least it was to Al. He called Brian and left a message to call back, then he called Laura and left a message telling her that Roxanne was in jail.
He rushed past his receptionist and slammed the door behind him. He wasted no time pulling up the documents he needed on his computer. After an unexpectedly short wait, Al’s cell phone rang and he saw it was Brian calling.
“What’s up? Make it short, I’m busy,” Brian said. The man had no sensibilities at all. What the hell she saw in Brian Dennis would forever baffle him.
“Roxanne’s been arrested. She’ll be arraigned later for murder in the first degree. Bail will be high. She’s sitting in a jail cell right now. That’s what’s up.” Al cursed himself for not being more professional. But Brian needed jarring. There was a long pause.
“And I suppose you want some money?” Brian’s voice was tight.
“Yes.”
There was another pause. This time Al could hear Brian breathing as if he were attempting to exert control of himself.
“Jesus Christ, Al. You weren’t supposed to let this happen. God damn.”
The tightness uncoiled and Brian sounded more upset than Al would have predicted.
He supposed it was the combination of things.
His daughter was on the operating table and his ex-lover was sitting in jail.
The man was not having a great day. Al cringed.
It was enough to distress even Mr. Cool himself.
“We need money. Preferably today so she doesn’t have to spend the night in jail.
Can I use your name to arrange it with the bail bondsman?
I’ll let you know how much when I find out.
” He paused. “Look, I know Lindy’s in surgery, but she’s in good hands.
I can’t help the timing on this. Roxanne sure could use your help … ”
“Save the sales pitch, Al. I’ll do whatever you need me to do. I’ll sign whatever you want. But don’t tell her it was me that made her bail.” He clicked off. Al stood with the phone still at his ear looking out his office window.
He didn’t want Brian’s money either. Al was convinced that Brian was not good for Roxanne.
In spite of her pretense, she was too softhearted and in spite of her faults, she was too good for the selfish bastard.
He wasn’t thrilled to find that Brian cared for her.
He’d known all along it could happen, but it was easy to pretend when they were playing games.
Now he had it shoved in his face, plain as day. No more pretending. For anyone.
***
It seemed like the blink of an eye. It seemed like forever until Al returned.
He stood and waited while the officer unlocked her cell. “Time for arraignment. You sure you want to plead not guilty?”
It was a good thing he was smiling when he said it. That was one thing Roxanne was not open to discussion about. She didn’t bother responding.
They walked through the halls and into a small courtroom.
They appeared before the district court judge, who looked like a typical middle-aged man to Roxanne.
She found his unreadable expression reassuring under the circumstances.
The assistant district attorney presented the formal charges—murder in the first degree.
Al had explained that she would be charged with first-degree murder because the Commonwealth was hoping she would plea bargain.
“How do you plead, Ms. Monet?” the judge asked her.
“Not guilty, Your Honor,” Al answered.
She felt unnerved. The ADA did not look surprised and nodded to Al as if he expected to be negotiating any minute.
“Bail is set at $100,000. A probable cause hearing will be held a week from Monday in this court.” The judge pounded the gavel and they left. She felt cold. She felt as helpless as a pauper.
***
“Where did you get that cashier’s check, Alan Dover?” Roxanne didn’t care if she seemed ungrateful as they walked down the front steps of the police station to Al’s waiting car.
“That’s the last thing you need to be worried about. Unless you plan to leave town?”
She stopped. “You got the money from Brian didn’t you?”
“That wouldn’t be Brian Dennis would it?” The voice came from behind them and Roxanne whipped around. She could have bit her tongue off when she saw the reporter followed by several others with cameras.
“Shit,” she muttered under her breath. “Let’s get out of here.” She hurried the last steps to the car.
“What about it, Ms. Monet? Who bailed you out? Mr. Dover, does the innocent plea mean you’re hoping for a plea bargain? How do you think your chances are of getting Ms. Monet off scot-free?”
Al got in the driver side a second after she slammed the other door.
“No comment,” he said through the window and drove off.
“There were only five of them that time. At least Brent Turner kept his word about that. He staved off the press pretty well, considering. But now they’re onto the story and we’d better prepare ourselves for the media blitz. ”
“What are you talking about, Al? That doesn’t make any sense. I should think Turner would want all the publicity he could get. You said it yourself, this case could make his career.”
“True. But it’s the ADA who wants the publicity.
I think Turner is interested in doing only what’s right.
He was under a lot of pressure to arrest you.
I don’t think he really believes you killed Don.
At least he seemed to lean toward the suicide theory and admitted that was his first impression the night they discovered the body. ”
“Aren’t we lucky. We found the last untainted cop in Massachusetts to be on our side. Not even moved by career ambition?” Roxanne was impressed. Al gave a half-smile.
Now Brent Turner’s behavior made sense to her in a way. He had pretended it didn’t matter to either of them that he locked her in that cell.
“At least I’m out of jail. Now all we have to do is make sure I don’t have to go back in.” She turned to Al and watched him drive. He was concentrating on something. Plotting. Roxanne felt reassured and sighed.
“Call ahead when we get close and have Bonnie open the garage door to let us in,” he said. “There’ll be media camped out there and we don’t want to bother with them,” he said.
She called Bonnie and they pulled into the waiting garage through a mob of men, women and cameras all shouting at the car.
They had to be persuaded with a few blasts of the horn to let them pass into her own driveway.
Al was on the phone before he got out of the car, calling his office to arrange for a forensics expert to get on the case.
“Good news,” he said as they entered her kitchen.
“I arranged for some people to come out to the house to run tests on the dynamics of the fall off the deck. The autopsy report determined that the fatal impact to the skull was most likely caused by a greater impact than a standing fall. Don probably fell or jumped from the deck.”
“Or he was pushed.” Roxanne reminded him of the ADA’s likely interpretation.
“It’s a stretch to believe that you could have pushed a man Don’s size over that railing to his death. Even if you were determined.”
“Unless I had help.” Roxanne reminded him of the missing link—Mark Baines.
“Remind me not to let you talk to the ADA. But you’re right. They might tie in the fact that Mark Baines is your alibi for the missing piece of time during the party when you two went for that drive. Add the fact that he’s missing and they may go for the collusion theory.” Al was all business now.
“I would be worried about that theory, but since we’re not together and never were, Mark has no motive. When we find Mark he can straighten it all out. How are things going with the search?” Roxanne asked.
“I’ve got a detective tracking down the latest lead. It’s just a matter of time. It’s not like he’s hiding or anything—is it?” Al demanded.
“No.” She was convinced Mark would come through. In spite of everything.
That was the thought she carried to bed that night. But her dreams weren’t about Mark. They weren’t about Al. They weren’t even about Don. The one man that troubled her dreams was Brian Dennis.
***
Roxanne pressed the garage door opener switch from the inside to let Laura drive in. There were still two reporters camped out on the street in their cars. She watched them jump to alertness when her garage opened. She jumped into Laura’s car.
“Okay, book it. They’re getting out of their cars now.” Roxanne watched them in the rearview mirror.
Laura stepped on the gas, forcing her wheels across the pavement with a squeal, and they fired out of the driveway.
Roxanne clicked the garage door closed and waved at Bonnie as she disappeared behind the closing door.
The two reporters jogged toward their car as Laura slammed the automatic transmission on her Volvo into drive.
“I can’t believe these guys are ready to chase us down the street,” Laura said as she slammed her foot on the gas again and took off down the winding road. Roxanne looked back out the window to see the receding figures popping pictures with their cameras before turning back to their cars.
“I hope they don’t try to follow us. You better keep this baby pressed to the floor,” Roxanne said. She smiled at her friend’s horrified expression.
“This car wasn’t meant to be driven this way. I wasn’t meant to drive this way,” Laura said.
“Maybe we should have taken my car. But I figured it was too easy to spot.”
“I didn’t really understand what you meant when you said the media was hounding you. This is like something you see on TV.”